I Hear You

15- Together

<Matthew Erwin>

I lent Lewis a pair of pajamas and boxers, it would be rude of me to let the poor man sleep in his daytime clothes when I get to change into comfort.

Growing up, my family always had this big custom in their house: whenever a guest is staying the night, offer them the nicest comfort we can bring them. My grandmother always broke out freshly washed sheets and set them up on the couch whenever I would stay the night at her house. My great uncle, Rickie, allowed his guests to sleep in his own bed since he felt bad sending them to the living room furniture.

I may not be as generous as Uncle Rickie, but my couch is very comfortable. In fact, it's probably cushier than my own bed.

Lewis thanked me for the clothes and quickly changed into them. He swiftly opened the door and granted me the available bathroom.

"How was your shower?" I ask him before I close the bathroom door, making sure it wasn't unenjoyable.

Lewis' wet hair dripped water down his face, giving a freshened vibe, "Matthew, you have the best water pressure, it felt amazing on my back," he said, contently.

I nodded my head; yes! So far, my guest is comfortable. I certainly aim to please!

As I closed the door, I noticed Lewis decided to only wear my boxers. I know I'm a guy and I shouldn't feel awkward over this, but, there is a nearly naked man in my apartment. I've never even had a woman nearly naked in my home, but here he is! It's probably not any of my business, after all, the host should aim to please...so I'm aiming.

Lewis propped himself on my couch, smirking. "Oh Matthew, is it fine if I wear only boxers. Usually I sleep nak-"

"YOU ARE FINE," my face screeched red, hurriedly, I slam the door.

Why does he make me so embarrassed? It's normal for guys to sleep in just boxers, even naked.

I mean, I don't sleep in just boxers. I wear a t-shirt. Sometimes I get cold.

Finally, I switch the water on and begin to bask in the warmth. Drops of water trickle down my exhausted face. I could feel the stress and tension leave my body; at last, relief.

I remember I used to hate taking showers. I was a little snot as a child, I liked playing in the dirt. I remember fighting my mom because I would always refuse taking a shower. Dad would only chuckle as I clawed the furniture when Mom would yank me by my legs.

I was senseless before Dad lost his legs. My actions were sneaky and mischievous, it actually entertained Dad. He would rumple my hair every time I did something careless and call me his little troublemaker.

Sometimes,Dad would take me running with him while Mom watched my sister. I would be mesmerized how Dad would breathe. He had the best stamina. He could run miles without gasping for air. I was fast when I ran, however, I had a weak lung capacity. Dad reassured me that it was okay to have short breath.

I felt amazing when he then told me I was like a cheetah. He said I was the fastest runner he knew. He told me I was quicker than lightning, but after I ran for a bit, I run out of air. 

"Dad, I wish I was like you! I want to have strong lungs like you do," I trotted beside him.

He grinned sincerely, quietly chuckling under his breath, "Matt, I didn't always have great lungs, and I wasn't fast either. I was moderately paced, I was merely average."

"Really?" I gasped, shell-shocked.

"Yup, I hated being average. So I practiced and practiced to the point where I can run a seven minute mile without coughing a storm," he continued to grin at the sky, thanking the clouds above him.

I jogged silently along side of him.

Then he stopped.

I finally brought myself to slow down and turn around to see what was the problem.

"Son, unlike me, you were born with talent. You're like a cheetah. You may not continue speed for very long, but," he wiped his brow with his arm, sweat covering his hoodie sleeve, "when you travel fast, you're already there. However, it never hurts to add more gas once you're there."

I never understood what he meant until now. He was telling me that it's cool to be good at something, but it's awesome to work harder to become great.

***

I stepped out of the shower, refreshed. The thoughtful shower made me embrace my appreciation of my dad before he turned into a miserable drunk.

Hastily, I threw on a full set of pajamas because it would be weird of me to walk around in my boxers in front of another guy.

I opened the door, releasing the thick steam from the bathroom. The fresh air felt great on my wet hair.

I looked around for Lewis and then stopped.

He was asleep. It was like watching a baby slumber, it was peaceful. He held onto one of the couch cushions passionately.

A smile crept on my face, I never realized how pretty he was. I tucked the blanket on top of him, ensuring myself that he would be warm. Calmly, I turn out the lamp that sat next to the couch.

The living room was pitch black since the drapes were shut. I lit a candle for him just in case he needed to go to the bathroom and needed a soft light.

Leaning over the couch one last time, my smile faded.

I was so cruel to him, I don't mean to be oblivious. But when I do understand what he is saying, it's fun for me to watch him struggle to explain.

"I know you're flirting, dummy," I sighed, sweeping his hair out his face, "good night, Lewis."

I snuck into my bedroom, collapsing into my domain. The comfort of my fluffy pillow welcomed me to my slumber. I hugged my blanket, assuring my awaited sleep.

Everything was warm.

And as I drifted off to dreamland, my blanket hugged back.